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Friday, January 31, 2014

"A CRAZY ASS DAY AT THE FRUIT MARKET": A True Story by Gabby

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that you are on right now (www.halfofgabby.blogspot.com) is no longer posting
new articles and information. Half of Gabby has moved to www.halfofgabby.com
and will continue to post new material regularly! In addition, all older
articles have been updated on the new site!

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*WARNING.This comical story contains adult language. This is a true story and I am in fact not fully recovered since it’s occurrence. Let’s hope you can quickly recover after reading it ;)

Ok, so I have this pummelo addiction. It kicks up every winter.

Pummelos are mostly from Southeast Asia and they are a lot like grapefruits but sweeter. They're very hard to find where I live and only available to buy in the months of January and February.

So for two months I’m pretty much like a crack head with these things.

I get mine at a local Italian market. It’s a pricy, upscale market so I don’t shop there regularly. When you go into the fruit & veggie portion of the market, you are greeted by someone in an all-white uniform (which looks a lot like a chef‘s jacket and trousers). They weigh your produce, put it in a white paper bag, and then print a price sticker (they don't weigh produce at the main checkout). The regular ‘someone’ who I always deal with is an adorable, little old Italian man. He is always absolutely spotless in his perfectly pressed, pure-white uniform. He’s very short, very sweet and his glasses are even thicker than his accent. When he sees me come in, he smiles and says something like “you take dem all from me again, eh?” He knows I have a problem. A serious pummelo problem.

So it’s a cold, blustery day and I’m on a pummelo run. I walk into the market and my sweet little old Italian man isn‘t there. In fact, I’m not greeted by anyone. Strange. I spot the pummelos and make a bee line straight for them. But wait, I need someone to give me a price sticker. Shit, I need to find someone. I look around and still don’t see anyone. So I go on a search. Finally I spot someone in the back corner of the veggie section. I see the side profile of a young man in an all-white uniform sitting on the edge of the refrigerated veggie display staring down at his feet. As I get closer, I notice his all-white uniform isn’t really all that white. It’s dirty and has some stains on it and looks too big for him. The bottom of his pants were all wet and brown from walking in the dirty snow-slush outside. I walk up to him and say “Excuse me, I would like some of the pummelos over there. Can you help me?” Without looking up at me he says with a smartass attitude, “Uh, go ahead and get them then. What’s stopping you?”

Um. What? Excuse me, did this kid just go punk ass on me? Why yes, I believe he did. Just great, now I gotta be a bitch.

Now, let me be clear. I’m not a regular bitch. I mean, I know how to be a bitch of course but I’m not an everyday bitch. On a daily, I’m just a silly goofball. I’m way more likely to tease you than be a bitch towards you. But can I be a bitch? Abso-friggin-lutely. And if you take me there… I’m damn good at it. And this dude just took me there at the speed of light. I instantly revved that shit into Turbo-Bitch. Vroom Vroom, Mother F’er.

I proceeded to tell him, with my newly acquired bitchitude, that he needs to give me a price sticker so they can scan it at the checkout. I reminded him it’s his job to do so and that I really wasn’t in the mood for getting the manager involved.

This isn't my first rodeo, punk. I have a legitimate addiction here. I come here and buy you out of this shit every week.

He lazily stood up and moseyed over to the pummelos and starts putting them into flimsy clear plastic bags. I tell him the pummelos are too heavy for those bags and that they need to go into the thick, white paper bags. He argues with me. It’ll be fine he says. I tell him no it won’t, he says yes it will… and back and forth it goes. I’m about to go medieval on this asshole. Finally I say “How about I just show you?” So I pick up the plastic bag he has put the pummelos in and I hold it up in the air. All of the pummelos instantly claw through the bag, fall to the ground, and are rolling all over the floor. I tilt my head, do the sassy neck thing, and say “Do you understand what I’m saying now?” I look up at him expecting him to spit out some kind of a smart-ass comment and what I see next leaves me absolutely speechless.

OMFG, how did I miss this? OMFG, HOW DID I NOT SEE THAT!!!! I guess fruit addiction makes you blind.

Hanging out of his left nostril was a gigantic, perfectly round cement booger. It was as big as a marble and was hanging half-way out of his nose. And on the very bottom of it dead center was a long, wet squiggly piece dangling... and it was bloody. The bloody, dangly part was touching the very top part of his upper lip. OMG! OMG! OMG! OMFG!

Sweet baby Jesus. I froze like a statue. I could not speak. I could not move. Omg, was this real? How did I not see this? I guess I never really looked at him. When I first spoke with him, I only saw his right side profile and I was too preoccupied looking at his dirty uniform. And after that I was focused on how he was bagging my pummelos. OMFG. I can’t even take it! My jaw dropped. I am standing there with my mouth agape. I AM FLOORED. Even though my body is frozen still, my mind starts running like a freight train.

How in the hell do you not know you have a booger rock hanging out onto your damn face? Don't you feel a large mass sticking out of your nose? Don't you feel it pushing the walls of your nose as you annunciate certain words or when you friggin’ breathe? And do you not feel where the bloody wet squiggly part is touching your upper lip? EW! OMG, OMG, I am gagging. How do you not feel this? Did you shoot up your face with Novocaine before coming to work? It is the biggest (and grossest!) booger I have EVER seen. Actually, I don’t know how it’s even possible! Isn't it painful? Are you in pain from it? Is that why you've been acting like such a shit-bag?

Have you not looked in the mirror... in like... four days? Because a hardened snot ball that size cannot possibly develop over a few hours. It took many cycles of the moon to ripen that bitch.

It's a solid mass now. Do you have any idea how long it would take slimy snot liquid to harden into a cement marble? This has been a process. How the hell have you not known about it? And are you unable to feel wetness up against your skin? If I threw a wet cotton ball on your face, would you not feel it? I mean, you actually have slime and blood on you from this Ripley’s Believe it or Not booger. W-in-TF? How you can walk around and not know you need minor surgery to remove a booger? I can’t even take life at this moment.

I'm starting to think he put it there on purpose. I mean, he has to know that it’s there! Right? Is this a prank? Omg, did this dude actually put that on his face? Is that possible? Because I know what ISN'T possible...What isn’tpossible is NOT knowing you have this disgusting, ginormous booger making sweet, slimy love to your damn face. That's like saying you don't know there’s a giant turd in your pants. You have to know. You just have to. Did he grow this booger in a basement lab? Did he start out with a human size booger on a Petri dish and when it got big enough he shoved it up his nose to see how many people would tell him about it? Is it an experiment? Am I on some lame-ass-dipshit-installment of Punk'd? Is my little old Italian guy gonna come running out here with a film crew?

No. I decide that no Punk’d show would be setting up shop in this small town market, no matter how lame of a version it was. And an even BIGGER no on the scientific experiment thing. No way this fucker has a basement lab. No way he could carry out any experiment that would require more brains than it does to take a piss.

At this point, my senses are beginning to return slowly, like after you bang a sleeping foot off the ground a couple times. I very slowly take a few steps back. I find myself afraid to actually move my mouth in fear I will actually start gagging. A thought suddenly pops in my head. OMG he has to touch my pummelos to bag and price them! No way! There is no friggin way! EW. I'm about to barf. I can't stop looking at it.

I CANNOT STOP LOOKING AT IT!

It's a train wreck. Omg, honest to God, I am just standing there staring at it! It's making me sick. My eyes are bulged staring at it. I CANNOT MOVE!

Throughout this whole time he's been talking. For the entire time I have been frozen and in this state of shock, he has been talking. I don’t even know how long I stood there paralyzed. A minute? Five minutes? For as many thoughts that have been racing through my brain, I’d think it was a good bit of time. But omg, it’s like a car accident. Once you’re hit, you lose track of everything. I have absolutely no clue what he's been saying and no idea how long he’s been saying it. But he did looked confused. Really confused. He was probably wondering WTH was wrong with me. With me? Ya, okay buddy, you won’t be wondering after you take a look in the mirror or go to touch your face. Seriously, HOW DOES HE NOT FEEL THAT BOOGER ON HIS FACE?!

This is some crazy ass shit right here.

I looked down and saw all the pummelos still on the ground. Well I couldn’t have been frozen for too long. I mean, someone would’ve picked those up by now, right?

When I looked down at the pummelos, it totally broke my trance. I was no longer hypnotized by his booger. All my senses flooded back to me and hit me like a lightening bolt. No way was he touching my beloved pummelos. This bitch didn’t need a produce price sticker. Not today. I grabbed two white bags, I threw five pummelos in each of them, and I headed my ass for the main checkout. Booger boy tried to stop me. He was saying something about the price sticker and if I was okay. I didn’t dare look at him. I kept on walking. No way was I going to look at his face and let him put his devil booger spell on me again. He followed behind me trying to say something else. I never turned around. At some point between the fruit market and the deli I lost the bastard.

When I got to the checkout, the woman asked me why there wasn’t a price sticker. I looked at her, shook my head, and said “Believe me, you really don’t wanna know.”

She gave me a funny look and continued to ring me up without the sticker. Once I got in my car, I just sat there trying to process what happened. I’m the kind of person that is very hard to shock or surprise. And I’m definitely not easily grossed out. But I can honestly say for a rare time in my life, I was truly grossed out. And for the first time in my entire life, I was rendered completely speechless. I may be at a loss for a lot of things, but words aren’t one of them.

A week later when my stash ran out, I had to go back to the market. I was afraid I was gonna have to deal with the Boogie Monster again. But when I walked in, there was my little old Italian man!!! In fact, I haven’t had to deal with slime face at all! I haven’t seen him. I’m hoping that after his boss took one look at his bleeding, cement booger he handed him a box of Kleenex and fired his nasty ass.

Even though I haven’t had to run into snot face, I must admit that ever since then every time I see a pummelo, I think of that giant, disgusting booger. Now don‘t get me wrong, I still eat the son of a bitch. I’m not that far gone. But it has toned down my addiction a notch…possibly two.

In the above pic are my actual pummelos from my story. And do you see that mangled plastic bag in the pic? Yup, that was the one that ass-munch tried to put those big ass pummelos in. I saved it so I could have props to retell the story to my husband, Jay. Haha. After 15 years together, he still looks at me like I'm insane when I tell him all the crazy shit that happens to me. He shakes his head and does a lot of eye rolling. But I know he secretly loves it. Why else would he have married me? And who would of thought at the time I was reenacting my fruit market fiasco that I'd be publishing this gross story on my blog?! Not me.

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WHY DO I LOVE PUMMELOS SO MUCH?

Because they’re a major pain in the ass to eat.

Yup, you read that right. Let me explain.

I was looking for a new TV food. Ya, ya, I know, you’re not supposed to eat at night while you’re watching TV. Well, I have to. Well ok, I don’t have to but… no screw it, I have to. Anyway, my hubs and I are the DVR king and queen. We haven’t been able to watch a TV show at it’s regularly scheduled time since the early 2000’s. Rugrats have that effect on grown-up schedules. It’s impossible to get through a show without filling up a sippy cup, tending to a boo-boo, finding a lost toy, or wiping an ass. So most nights Jay and I get the kiddies to bed and try to catch up on our 178 back-logged DVR recordings. By this time it’s been about 4-5 hours since supper. During the day, I eat every 3 hours, so by the time I hit the 4-5 hour mark, I’m ready to eat the couch.

Even though I’m starving and I know I need to eat a snack, I need to be careful so I don't ruin my day’s hard work. And TV snacking can be VERY dangerous. It’s so easy to lose track of how much you’re eating when you’re lost in a show.

Pummelos take FOREVER to eat. You have to remove ALL the layers to eat them. So by the time I’m done with one, I’ve been eating the entire show and I feel satisfied. If I’d eat a quick handful of nuts or a banana, my snack wouldn’t even last through the opening credits. And I’d want to keep eating. My usual TV snack is edamames. Edamames also take a long time to eat because you have to work to get to the good stuff by opening up all the pods. But come wintertime when my pummelos are only available for a few months, I shit-can the edamames.

I thought I’d include a picture tutorial on how to peel a pummelo. You have to remove every bit of the skin. It’s not like an orange where you peel it and then eat the pieces. You have to get down to the raw flesh of the fruit. I’ve had many friends call or text me saying they hated them because they couldn’t even chew it. They only took the peel and first layer of skin off. You must take the second skin off as well.

HOW TO PEEL A PUMMELO

FIRST SCORE THE PEEL WITH A KNIFE SO THAT YOU CAN EASY PEEL DOWN SECTIONS.

AFTER REMOVING PEEL, YOU'LL SEE THE FIRST LAYER OF SKIN. IT'S VERY THICK.

PEEL OFF THE THICK LAYER OF SKIN.

THE SECOND LAYER OF SKIN THAT'S STILL LEFT ALSO NEEDS REMOVED.PULL EACH INDIVIDUAL PIECE OFF OF THE PUMMELO AND REMOVE ALL OF THE SKIN DOWN TO THE RAW FLESH OF THE FRUIT.

ENJOY! NOM NOM NOM

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CRAZY IS ALL IN A DAY'S WORK

My whole lifeI have been described as crazy and funny by other people. And I don't mean crazy as in truly certifiably crazy, I mean more as in I say what comes to my mind . I think a big part of the reason people think I'm funny is because I say what everyone else is thinking. People who don't know me are sometimes taken aback by my candidness and those who know me try to be prepared, but are still often left shaking their heads. My Hubs is famous for shaking his head at me. He'll try to say he's grossed out or shocked but he secretly loves it. It's part of my charm and why he fell in love with me ;)

I would not describe myself as crazy. But we all catch the crazies every once in a while, fo sho. But I do say what's on my mind and I do have a fondness for dirty words.

I do love to laugh though, so it's a good thing I married a funny man. I grew up with a big italian family with wicked funny humor. My father's side was more the dirty, foul mouthed humor and my mother's side was more the witty, clever humor. Either way, it was all freakin' hilarious, so I had to catch the funnies...it's in my blood. I love spending time with people who enjoy getting their own smile on. A night of hanging with family and friends and laughing until my stomach hurts is my perfect kind of evening.

It's not all funny business though, I try hard to be a good person and work hard on bettering myself all the time. I hope to have the privilege of living a long life and I hope to die being the very best version of myself. One of my biggest goals in this life is to inspire and empower other women to start their own journeys. Weight loss journeys really aren't about losing weight at all. They're about gaining life. It's amazing how health and fitness serves as a portal into a world where you learn to love and respect yourself. A world where you see your beauty, the true beauty that lives inside of you and makes you who you really are.

I've been through my share of shit(as has everybody) and have had to endure days that will not soon be forgotten. My past is what attributed to me becoming a therapist. I believe that being happy isn't having a life void of problems, but is being a person who knows how to deal with the problems. Trials and tribulations are a part of life, it's a fact...shit happens....so you gotta learn how to forge through it. And life at any moment can turn your world upside down. So I consider any day that my family is happy and healthy, well, that's a great day...and something to be so very, very grateful for.

My wish is to create a badass army of empowered women.This is the main reason I created my blog, Half of Gabby. I realized if I could learn to conquer my obesity and all the demons that caused it, I could maybe, just maybe, inspire other women to do the same. It saddens me to watch women keep their heads down, constantly pull at their clothes out of self-consciousness, and put themselves last in all areas of their life. I used to do that, all of it. When I see these women, I feel their heavy sadness because I too once felt it. I know how hard it is to lift that weight off of your shoulders. But I also know it's possible because I did it. And if I can do it, anybody can do it. So that's why I'm here... to build an army. An army of badass women who know their worth and see how beautiful they are, BEFORE and after they hit goal weight.

It's time to stare your fear down, go after your dreams, and start thinking and acting like the badass that you are.

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